


All This Time #IneffableValentines2020 prompt 27

by GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge)



Series: Ineffable Valentines 2020 [27]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: #ineffableValentines2020, 6000 Years of Love (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley First Kiss (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley, Ineffable Valentines (Good Omens), Ineffable Valentines 2020 (Good Omens), M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Valentines, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), ineffable valentines, trueform aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22794394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/pseuds/GayDemonicDisaster
Summary: Love hurts, especially when you’re not allowed it. Aziraphale struggles to cope with his feelings about his god given abilities, and Crowley tries to help him see something important about it all.“That’s the problem with having a thousand eyes. When you cry, it can get messy.”
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Valentines 2020 [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618783
Comments: 15
Kudos: 163
Collections: Classic Good Omens Fics, Ineffable Valentines 2020





	All This Time #IneffableValentines2020 prompt 27

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miele_Petite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miele_Petite/gifts).



They sat on the park bench side by side. They didn’t need to. 

They didn’t need to hide their friendship any more, heaven and hell no longer cared. They could do as they pleased, but after thousands of years of being on a tight rein, they didn’t know what that might be. Both were lost at sea, the only rock to cling to being the steadfastness of each other. 

So they carried on with old habits, they didn’t need to meet clandestinely in the park any more, they could go where they wanted, but it was habit now, it was  _ nice _ . They took security in routine. 

They watched the ducks. They watched the swans, ruffling feathers and displaying to each other in the spring sunshine. Aziraphale watched them blankly. A couple of humans walked past hand in hand, clearly very much in love. The angel lifted his eyes to follow them, but there wasn’t a joyful expression on his face. He was subdued, if anything he looked resentful. Crowley frowned with concern. 

“Aziraphale? What’s up?”

The angel’s eyes met his briefly, then looked away, face still blank. He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Crowley raised a skeptical eyebrow but remained silent. He knew Aziraphale too well after all this time. He knew he wasn’t ok, but he also knew that it might take a little while for him to express why, and Crowley’s job, as ever, was to winch that out of him until he felt able to talk it out. 

“Tempt you to a spot of lunch?”

Aziraphale lifted his eyes again from a couple picnicking on the grass a few yards away, sighed and nodded. They rose and ambled off out of the park. Aziraphale was equally subdued over lunch at the Wolseley. Crowley nudged things in a more relaxed direction by ordering a bit more wine than usual, then suggesting they head back to the bookshop for a bit. 

They wandered back down the street in companionable silence, until they passed a young couple kissing outside a cafe, and the angel looked more morose than ever. “Aziraphale, something’s up. You usually get all wistful seeing stuff like that.” Crowley nodded to the couple as they walked on. “You’re not your usual self, Angel, talk to me.”

Aziraphale sniffed and glanced at him sidelong. “It’s just rather overwhelming at the moment, too much to process and it’s like a cheesegrater over my nerves, rubbing me raw.”

“What is?” Crowley was confused. 

Azirpahale looked uncomfortable. “The love.” he replied, simply. 

“Love?” Crowley was nervous. 

“Crowley you  _ know  _ I can feel it, feel it all around, all the time, and I can’t turn it off, it’s just always there, all around me, and it can get to be too much sometimes, Crowley, it  _ hurts _ .” 

They’d arrived at the bookshop and Aziraphale unlocked the door. Crowely was stunned. “Hurts?” 

Aziraphale paused, his hand on the door, and looked at him seriously. “Yes.”

He held the door for Crowley then followed him in, crossed the shop floor and sank down into his customary chair near the sofa. Crowley collapsed into his usual ungainly heap on the sofa, set his shades aside, and regarded the angel carefully. 

“I thought you  _ liked  _ being able to feel it, why is it a bad thing all of a sudden?”

Aziraphale’s face crumpled, he looked close to tears. He put his head in his hands for a moment, thinking, then threw his hands up in exasperation. 

“Oh but my dear boy, can you imagine what it is like to be a being of love, to be made of love, and to be able to feel that love everywhere one goes, to feel the soft tendrils snaking out from every living being in one direction or another, to walk amongst them being brushed by those touches of love all the time, but to never…” He paused, voice quavering, eyes brimming. He swallowed and closed his eyes. “… To never be able to partake of it. To be allowed to feel it in others, but not be allowed the merest sip for oneself?”

Crowley’s eyes welled up in sympathy. He glanced away, struggling to deal with the sight of his angel so distraught. Aziraphale continued. “What a cruel joke it was of Her, to make me able to feel such love yet at the same time be denied the permission to taste if for myself.” He lifted his eyes slightly to look at Crowley. Crowley’s gentle gaze met his, and the angel saw the tears running down his face.

“Angel….” He began, his voice cracking with emotion. “… Angel, I…, I…” He broke into a strangled sob and buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. Aziraphale reached out and touched his knee gently. The demon flinched inadvertently.

“Crowley, my dear, what is it?” His voice was soft, a quiet murmur as he shuffled closer, his other hand tentatively reaching out as well, unsure where to touch. He paused, one hand still uncertain in the air, when Crowley lifted his reddened eyes and tear streaked face to meet his gaze again. He saw the hand faltering in the air, reaching for him, and reached out for it himself, taking it in his own, unsure what to do once he had it. He desperately wanted to kiss it, but didn’t dare. He settled for holding it tight instead, their hands lowering to rest on his thigh together, palm to palm.

“Angel, can you feel it now?” 

Aziraphale nodded. “Of course, always, I never escape it, it taunts me sometimes I think. Like constantly having a special treat dangled in front of you but never being allowed to grasp it.” 

Crowley nodded. “Does it feel different, from different people?” 

Aziraphale nodded again. “Of course, it comes in so many, well, flavours, I suppose you’d call it. Love from a parent for their child, from a child to the parent, from one sibling to another, for one human to another with desire, from a human to a pet, from close friends to each other, there are so many ways. When there are lots all together they meld into one big cloud of amorphous love, and it’s hard to pull the threads apart unless you concentrate.”

“So surrounded by humans, you just feel all of them at once?” 

Aziraphale sighed in response. “Yes, it’s easier that way somehow, feeling it as generic love, all lumped together isn’t as painful, as when you’re somewhere more remote and suddenly you just feel two very in love humans together on their own, that hurts so much, it’s something I’m denied. It softens the blow to have it smoothed over with other types at the same time.”

Crowley’s dogged curiosity wouldn’t let him leave the subject at all, he was so close, he knew the answer was there somewhere. “Aziraphale… have you ever been far from humans and felt love from just one other being, without another human around to receive it?”

Aziraphale’s expression froze. Crowley’s heart stilled. The angel looked uneasy, uncertain. “I don’t know. It shouldn’t be possible, but there have been times, I didn’t know what it meant, I assumed it was some especially strong urge of love from one human to another who was far away, somehow crossing distance and me intercepting it. I couldn’t think of another explanation.” He looked at Crowley curiously.

“Angel… was I ever with you when you felt that?”

Aziraphale’s breath stopped, his eyes wide, finally understanding. He struggled to catch his breath to speak. He swallowed nervously, opened his mouth, suddenly dry and uncooperative, croaked, then swallowed again, licked his lips and tried a second time. A hoarse whisper escaped his lips. “…Yes.” 

His mind was whirling, recounting all the strange incidents he’d experienced when he’d felt unusually powerful bolts of love with no obvious cause nearby. His mind filled in the gaps of the common denominator.

“…  _ Crowley _ …” he gasped. “But, you …” 

Crowley snorted. “I what? Can’t feel love? Is that what heaven told you? Demons can’t love? Look at me, Aziraphale.  _ Really _ look at me. I know you can. Open all those god-damned eyes of yours and  _ really _ look at me, at my  _ soul _ , I know you can. Look at me and tell me I can’t feel it too.”

Aziraphale recoiled. “But I can’t, it might hurt you!” 

Crowley set his jaw firm. “Try me. I’ll tell you if it hurts, and you can stop. Do it.” He straightened his shoulders, not letting go of the angel’s hand. Aziraphale swallowed and shuffled in his seat, bit his lip nervously. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

They both stood, Aziraphale rolled his shoulders, breathed deeply and released his wings along with his breath, they shimmered into reality mantled around him, then spread wide, glowing gradually brighter. “Go on” Crowley urged, gently. Aziraphale’s brow furrowed. He allowed his aspect to bleed through a little stronger, his aura beginning to glow a bright white overshadowing its natural gentle gold shine. His wings grew brighter and brighter, until it was too much to look at and Crowley had to close his eyes. The suggestion of thousands of piercing blue eyes seemed to cover his every aspect, all of them seeking right into Crowley’s soul.

Crowley expected it to burn, it didn’t. It hurt a little, but in a good way. It stripped him bare of all pretences, left him mentally exposed, his psyche bare, with nowhere to hide, far more intimate than a mere corporeal form’s nakedness would be. He felt like he was pegged out on a rock for an eagle to peck his liver out like in the old Greek tales. But he  _ wanted _ the eagle to peck out his liver, to consume it and the very truth of himself along with it, so it would understand, would understand what it was to  _ be _ him, to feel what  _ he _ felt. He couldn’t open his eyes, he’d be blinded by the angel’s brilliance if he tried.

Aziraphale was shaking. His wings shimmered and a low gasp escaped him. He could see it now, truly see it, he could see every part of Crowley’s heart laid out before him, and all of it, for all eternity, was filled with Aziraphale. Everything he did was with him in mind. Every action was with the ultimate goal of pleasing his angel somehow, of getting close to him, spending time with him, protecting him, caring for him, making him smile, and yes,  _ loving _ him.

That’s the problem with having a thousand eyes. When you cry, it can get messy.

Celestial tears rained down on the floor before he remembered himself and folded his wings and aspect away, banishing them with a shiver. He squeezed Crowley’s hand. “You can open your eyes now, dearest.”

Crowley did with a shudder. Being touched by an angel whilst their aspect was in full force was something he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to put words to. Like a full body orgasm times a thousand. He was shaking and exhausted, mind whirling. He whimpered.

“Crowley. My love. I’m so sorry. I never knew, I’m such a blessed  _ idiot _ , I’m so sorry my darling, I’m so  _ sorry _ ” Aziraphale was sobbing the words out, he stumbled forward and wrapped the demon in a tight embrace. Crowley was knocked back slightly and flailed wildly for a second before he cautiously allowed his own arms to come down around the angel. He tipped his head down and buried it in the soft warmth where shoulder met neck, breathing deep, and planting a gentle kiss there.

Aziraphale’s tears were soaking into Crowley’s shirt at his shoulder. He both loved and hated the sensation. Loved that his angel was held so tight against him, hated that he was crying. “I never knew, my love. All this time, so long… I never knew it was you, never knew it  _ could _ have been you.”

Crowley hesitated, and then gently placed another soft kiss, this time to Aziraphale’s cheek. “It was always me, Angel. I’ve always been in love with you.”

Aziraphale lifted his head to meet Crowley’s eyes. “All this time and I was yearning for you, and I had no idea, my darling I’m so sorry.” His blue eyes gazed helplessly at the demon’s lips, frozen in indecision. He licked his own lips nervously. “Crowley, I love you too, dearest.” 

Crowley nodded, understanding. Their eyes met again, and Aziraphale reached up slightly, closing the gap between their faces, drew a shuddering breath, then pressed his lips to Crowley’s. 

The response was immediate. All of Crowley’s body was lit up with purest love, finally fulfilled, exploding from every nerve ending in his body, surging up from his soul into the contact of the kiss, the overwhelming emotion of it hitting the angel’s soul like a freight train. He physically recoiled with the intensity of it, and it was only Crowley’s strong arms around him that prevented him from falling. His eyes flew wide with shock and he broke off the kiss for a moment, fighting for breath. He’d never felt anything so powerful in his life. “Crowley…” he gasped, dizzy from the sensation. 

Crowley hesitated, worried that he’d done something to hurt his angel. “Are you ok, Aziraphale?” He loosened his embrace and went to step back, to give him space, but Aziraphale wouldn’t let him, he grabbed him even more firmly and surged forward into an even more passionate kiss, greedy to drink in more of the purest outpouring of love that the demon had to offer, filling every cell of his body to overflowing, making him tingle all over. 

When he came up for breath again, Crowley’s eyes were wide. “Aziraphale, you’re… glowing. Really glowing, look at your aura.”

Aziraphale looked down at himself in surprise, then up at Crowley in shock. “Speak for yourself.” He stared at the demon, uncomprehending. Crowley looked down at himself and recoiled in confusion. 

“Wha..?” He lifted his eyes to meet Aziraphale’s, questions burning in his expression. “How…?”

The demon’s usual deep red-black aura was once more glowing gold, something it hadn’t done since before he fell. He felt faint. 

Aziraphale smiled and let out a gentle laugh. “I think our love rekindled your old aura, Crowley. It suits you.” He stepped forward and caught the demon in his strong arms before his legs gave way altogether, holding him up and sweeping him into a fond embrace, bringing their faces close together once more. “Shall we see how much brighter we can make each other glow?” He smiled and pressed forward into another gentle kiss. 

If Anathema had been visiting London at the time and walked past the shop, she’d have been blinded by the sheer brightness of the combined golden aura blazing out from every window of the bookshop. 


End file.
